Watching the MC80b fall apart after absorbing three full salvos of proton torpedoes, Wedge Antilles couldn't tear his eyes away from the tactical monitors on the bridge of his new flagship.
The Victory II-class Star Destroyer, named after the late Supreme Commander Gial Ackbar, held the center of the Republic fleet formation, supporting the advance with fire from all its guns.
Thrawn had managed to catch them by surprise, arriving with his fleet at Wedge's fleet's base of operations.
Trapped by a gravity anomaly and the "cup" of Dominion Star Destroyers on one side and the planetary orbit on the other, the New Republic ships had taken losses from the very first moments of the engagement.
Two dozen ships had already been turned into space debris — and this was by no means due to anyone's negligence or betrayal.
And the precise, terribly precise salvos from Thrawn's Star Destroyers had nothing to do with it either.
"They clearly don't have just that one magic fighter," Wedge said, turning away from the image of an exploding escort frigate.
The Nebulon-B2 had taken about a dozen proton torpedoes to its stern, and a huge glowing sphere had formed where the engines were — the reactors had detonated.
The helpless forward section continued moving by inertia.
Kicked by the shockwave, the ship's remains spun, stripped of protection and the ability to stabilize course.
Two Dominion Victories holding the left flank shifted their guns' fire to the New Republic ship's wreckage.
It took only a few minutes for the ship to cease to exist. Even as a forward section.
By now, Wedge had already closed his ships — forty MC80 series star cruisers and two dozen escort frigates — with the Dominion fleet to a distance of forty units.
The exchange of fire between ships was now almost at point-blank range.
Held from escaping into hyperspace by the gravity wells of four Interdictor-class Star Destroyers, Wedge's fleet was forced to accept battle with the Dominion fleet.
The initial tactic, based on defense under the cover of Golan stations, had proven ineffective.
Antilles realized this as soon as two pairs of Venators, undoubtedly armed with ion cannons, appeared in the Interdictors' defense.
The arrival of the latter from hyperspace was accompanied by strikes from the "miracle fighters" on Wedge's fleet, causing losses in the first phase of the battle.
After that, the Corellian moved his ships toward the enemy.
It's pointless to play defensively when the enemy, having lured most of the Republic's small craft into battle with their own small craft, can destroy the New Republic's star cruisers without even closing with them.
A counterattack, if it doesn't bring victory, will at least allow some of the Republic's starships to break through.
Thrawn had positioned his ships in three echelons.
The Grand Admiral's Star Destroyers held the center, among which a dozen Victories were the clear debutants of the battle.
Like the two Wedge had encountered at Ossus, these twelve ships were not inferior in firepower to some Imperials. The Republic's onboard computers identified nearly half of them — specifically seven — as having previously served in the New Republic fleet.
Present here too were the Monarch and the Triumph, lost at the Battle of Ciutric IV.
The Liberator and the Swift Freedom, which had taken part in the attack on the Oplovis sector.
The Selonian Flame and the Fire of Korusca, which had disappeared in the Zonju system during the search for the Grand Admiral's fleet that had retreated from the Mustafar system.
A seventh Victory had gone missing while escorting a convoy...
Ten Imperial II-class Star Destroyers and two dozen Mark Ones also held the middle echelon alongside the Victories.
And among these ships, besides starships that had once fought under Republic identification codes and the repaired Reckoning from Krennel's fleet, one could also spot those on the Republic's wanted list for Imperial terrorists.
The Stalker and the Thunder — part of Death Squadron, which had vanished from sight after the liberation of the Elrood sector from Imperial rule.
Captain Raeder's Krueger — another "bandit" and outlaw operating in the Outer Rim, which had caused no small amount of trouble for New Republic transports and its remote outposts.
Thrawn had clearly not been idle, drawing more and more ships to his banner, both by taking them from the New Republic and by capturing Star Destroyers from Imperial rebels or simply re-recruiting them into his service.
Fifty-two Dreadnaught-class heavy cruisers, split equally into two groups, were positioned in the upper and lower echelons, and their fire was tearing Wedge's support forces apart.
The huge half-cup that had pinned the New Republic fleet to orbit looked more and more like a noose.
The quartet of Venators, as expected, spat ion fire.
But their target was not Antilles's ships.
The Golan's shields vanished in an instant, and a second salvo knocked out four of the six stations. The shots that followed shortly after at the two remaining Golans made the situation as clear to Wedge as both suns in the sky above Tatooine.
"Thrawn is squeezing us into a fire sack," he said, seeing the flanks of the Dominion fleet beginning to stretch out to completely surround the battered formations of New Republic ships.
The support fire had dried up, and now nothing and no one could stop Thrawn from capturing half a dozen stations, dropping them from orbit onto the planet, destroying the geothermal energy sources, and thereby paralyzing its supplies to the Core Worlds.
And certainly nothing prevented him from completing the encirclement, shooting down New Republic starships in gunnery range conditions.
Wedge himself had let him realize this by pulling his ships away from orbit.
Thrawn had unequivocally offered him two options — stay in place and be shot to pieces, or move forward with the hope of a breakthrough...
And the second option led to inevitable encirclement and the subsequent destruction of one ship after another.
And in this hopeless situation, Wedge saw a chance.
Not believing his eyes, he assessed the enemy's ship positions, evaluated the Venator's placement, and a wild thought aligned the numerous firing vectors...
There it is!
Thrawn was wrong!
There is a way out!
Perhaps one in a million, perhaps another trap, but its execution could at least allow the New Republic fleet under his command not to lose the battle without inflicting any losses on the enemy.
And if the Great Force was with them today, then perhaps they might yet manage to defeat the invincible Grand Admiral Thrawn.
"All ships — ninety-degree turn to port for the first formation, to starboard for the second," Antilles ordered. "Recall the fighters to cover the ships. We begin the breakout."
The Corellian wasn't sure of anything, relying simply on his natural luck.
After all, it was literally woven into the DNA of every son of Corellia.
Why wouldn't luck finally kick in?
Thrawn can't possibly foresee literally everything, can he?
He can't, can he?
* * *
The TIE Avengers had fallen to Black Wing squadron after the capture of the Ubiqtorate flagship Red Dragon and the Epsilon Nine station, where two more squadrons of the same type had been stationed in the landing bay.
Out of seven dozen — five Avenger squadrons on the destroyer and two on the station — the Dominion forces obtained three from the first source and one and a half from the second in relatively combat-ready condition.
Through simple manipulations with modular spare parts, they ended up with two fully equipped squadrons, built under factory conditions, without the slightest makeshift intervention.
These were led by Lieutenant Kreb and Lieutenant Jainer.
The remaining machines were sent to the Dominion for study, repair, and possibly (as Krieg hoped) for subsequent reproduction.
While the controls weren't too different from the TIE Interceptors, the new machine, due to its launchers, different power structure, and deflector shields, required a change in control approach.
Training was training, but in combat, the TIE Avengers clearly outperformed what Jainer had flown before.
He veered his machine aside as the crimson laser beams from an X-wing that had gotten on his tail reduced the power of his defensive shield.
They hadn't penetrated, but they had significantly cooled the pilot's ardor, accustomed to flying without energy protection. The elation that his ship now wouldn't fall apart from the first accurate hit gave way to thoughts that the deflectors' endurance limit shouldn't be tested.
Protection was good, but on interceptors, he and his boys had managed to fight without it.
And now they should be even better.
Together with Black Wing, they fought their way into the thick of the battle — where dozens of pilots were dying every second on both sides.
Kreb had gone free hunting, but for some time now he hadn't been able to find his target. It was unlikely that Rogue Squadron, whose transponders the Chimaera had detected from the very start of the battle, had been killed in a way that made them impossible to find.
The enemy had simply disabled their identification equipment and was now operating so as not to be detected by Kreb and his pilots.
The Rogues certainly weren't cowards, but last time Black Wing had destroyed them with Kreb alone in a TIE Avenger and eleven interceptors piloted by his clones. Now, there were a dozen of the best of the best here.
No, Jainer didn't envy his former commander the honor of hunting the Rogues. Almost every pilot in the Dominion, as well as the Empire, dreams of fighting the most celebrated (and for the most part, rightfully so) squadron.
But Krieg didn't flatter himself — he was a good pilot, damn good. And that was hardly enough to take out the Rogues.
Besides, he had a completely different order.
Right now, they were just moving toward the battle site together with the Black Wing, but further on, their paths would diverge. It was simply a coincidence that both squadrons had returned for rotation at the same time and both had left the Chimaera's hangar.
Kreb continued his search and destruction of a specific enemy; Jainer and his boys were once again guarding the Scimitar squadron, which Major Bren was training before the main battle of the current campaign.
The boys were acting harmoniously, skillfully — and the New Republic ships were burning, blazing, and dwindling in number.
Krieg's task was to prevent losses among such rare machines and to ensure that, in case of a failure of the primary order, the enemy couldn't get anything useful from damaged Scimitars.
Obviously, this primarily concerned the PLAE modules. Providing lightning-fast acceleration to the new bombers, these units were assembled (as were the Scimitars themselves) almost by hand. And every single copy that fell into enemy hands brought the Republic closer to solving this problem.
Executing complex aerobatic maneuvers, Krieg managed to break away from his pursuer.
Together with his wingman, they turned from the pursued into the pursuers.
The X-wing calmly dodged the squadron commander's laser cannon burst, came under the wingman's fire, performed a half-roll, and the next moment fell apart, catching two missiles from Jainer right in the tail.
Orbiting a miniature star along a parabola, dodging stray debris, the commander of Grey Wing realized that his fighters, having driven off the annoying Republic pilots, were alone.
Kreb's boys, led by their lieutenant, had already pulled ahead, charging after several New Republic interceptors that were trying to catch up with retreating enemy small craft.
The New Republic's air force, as if split in two, was rushing toward its capital ships.
And those, in turn, were pulling to the right and left, relative to the central formation of the Dominion fleet.
Clearly aiming for the flanks enveloping them.
"This isn't good," Jainer muttered under his breath, steering his squadron toward where, according to this sortie's plan, the Scimitars were supposed to strike.
* * *
"Your opinion, Captain Pellaeon," Gilad heard the quiet tone of the Grand Admiral calmly seated in his chair.
The commander of the Chimaera glanced at Thrawn, but the latter didn't even bat an eye, watching the attack plan crumble.
"Antilles has split his fleet into two equal flotillas and intends to strike our flanks," the man stated the logical conclusion. "He'll use the concentration of his ships' fire on selected units to disable or destroy them, after which he'll break through the barrier and have the opportunity to escape from us in two directions."
"And thereby all the efforts to contain his fleet in orbit of Sarapin will go to waste," Thrawn confirmed. "Well, finally they've figured out such a simple and effective maneuver."
Yes, the interesting question was different — had Thrawn figured out that the enemy fleet commander would realize how to escape from the unfinished fire sack, and exactly how to prevent it.
Because Thrawn had demonstrated too much in the current battle.
He had brought all twelve modernized Victories into the battle, showing that every single one of them had received eight-gun turrets of heavy turbolasers.
He had involved the Scimitar squadron on Scimitars, piloted by Major Bren's clones, in the operation — and that had allowed them to disable two dozen enemy starships in a short time.
Finally, Thrawn had demonstrated that he had at least four Venators equipped with ion cannons.
If before they had been brought into battle one or two units at a time, and practically always the enemy was destroyed, preventing information from spreading beyond the battlefield, now...
As soon as Antilles broke free from the gravitational vice, as soon as he left the system and the communication channel jamming produced by the Eternal Wrath ceased, it would all be over.
The enemy would learn not only this, but also the names of the ships, the Imperials that Thrawn had put into service and crewed. Which meant that at Sluis Van, instead of an expected easy walk, a slaughter awaited them. And with the current forces, they certainly wouldn't be able to manage.
By now, the Dominion fleet had already lost a dozen CR90 corvettes and four heavy cruisers. All these ships had been on the edges of the flanks and had become the first victims of the current engagement.
They could easily have been picked off by the Venators, but the problem was that the enemy perfectly understood the weak point of the Dominion's initial formation.
Thrawn had positioned the ships so the Dragons could disable the defensive stations — and together with the overall losses, this had spurred Antilles to leave Sarapin's orbit. Next, his encirclement and destruction were planned.
But now...
There wasn't even a whiff of encirclement.
On the contrary, Antilles might take the risk, and having broken through the "half-cup," he might try to envelop the Dominion fleet. During a reformation from a blocking formation to any other, confusion and overlapping firing sectors would inevitably begin.
And now it wouldn't be Thrawn concentrating his ships' fire on the New Republic starships, but quite the opposite.
In other words, the situation smelled a little bit like bantha poodoo!
And something had to be done about it, and quickly!
"I must admit, I am impressed by General Antilles's actions," Thrawn said, watching the Republican force, led by the flagship Victory II, press on the left flank. "First Division of Victories, break off combat on the left flank at full speed and, together with the Dragons, leave the system, exceeding the speed of light to point two. Captain I-Gor will take command of the formation and await further orders. The remaining destroyers on the left flank, begin a turn to port, keeping the enemy in the firing sector. Heavy cruisers — one hundred degree turn to port, without breaking fire contact. Execute."
What?!
The "half-cup" was just being formed at the edges of the gravity anomaly. That the nimble Victories could easily turn and outrun the retreating enemy starships was understandable.
But why pull ten Star Destroyers out of the fight at once? It was clear the Venators wouldn't be able to fire for the next twenty minutes while the reformation was underway. Yes, by that time, some of the enemy ships would clearly manage to get away. Yes, the Scimitar would be a huge help right now, taking out a dozen enemy ships.
But they had gone for rotation and would only be able to join in after some time.
Besides, Thrawn had made it clear they were operating on the right flank.
So why was he weakening the left?!
Why had he ordered the two central Interdictors to change position?
The four Imperial-class Star Destroyers closing off that direction were frankly being overwhelmed by enemy fire.
For their crews, this battle was their first large-scale engagement.
Thrawn, considering the scale of current operations, had been forced to take risks, taking under his command, among others, inexperienced crews, only partially crewed by clones. Apart from escort missions convoying cargo to fortress planets and patrolling the Dominion's home territory, they couldn't boast of having any combat experience in the campaign.
Of course, these ships, which had once formed, along with the Crimson Dawn, the First Division of the Fourth Fleet, did have experienced commanders and clones of veterans from Thrawn's campaign...
And they certainly couldn't be blamed for failing to hold back the onslaught of twenty Mon Calamari star cruisers, escort frigates, Antilles's Victory II while executing a double "Ackbar Slash" maneuver, and that with an entire fleet, not a line-ahead formation.
"Signal the Impartial, the Omnipresent, the Fateful, and the Storm Front," Thrawn named the four specified Star Destroyers, "as well as their operational task forces, that they need to increase speed to three-quarters, while simultaneously turning seven degrees to starboard. Scimitar squadron, destroy the screening ships. The Sentry and the Connector are to disengage their generators, make a forty-five degree turn to port, and await new orders."
"Yes, sir," Pellaeon replied mechanically.
And only after that did he realize that Thrawn had just ordered a quartet of destroyers and cruisers (one doesn't even think about corvettes and frigates in such moments) to simply get out of the way of Wedge Antilles's fleet.
Yes, they hadn't just fled — Major Bren's Scimitar squadron's Scimitars had blown two star cruisers and all screening starships to pieces.
But that was happening on the right flank!
On the left, Thrawn was essentially letting Antilles go free, not allowing him to cause massive damage to the quartet of Star Destroyers.
Yes, on the right flank, it was a rout — Dorja, Stormaer, Astorias, Abyss, Raeder, Lennox, and Mor on the Relentless, the Abyssal Fury, the Stormhawk, the Void Wanderer, the Krueger, the Black Star, and the Inexorable had created a slaughter, supported by the Point of No Return, the Twilight, the Red Gauntlet, the Wolf's Claw, and six Victories. Thrawn had placed his most prepared, most experienced "original" captains on this direction, as many as he had at his disposal. Dorja, who commanded them, had complete freedom of action within the general order, and was now using it to the fullest.
He skillfully employed the numerous turbolasers, ion cannons, and launchers at his disposal. The remaining number of star cruisers and support ships the enemy had stubbornly pressed forward, fiercely snapping back and intending to escape the hurricane bombardment.
The Krueger, the Black Star, and the Void Wanderer, along with the Abyssal Fury, which had also ended up on the edge of the flank, but the right one this time, came under enemy fire, but reacted unconventionally.
Dorja had obviously noticed Antilles's maneuver earlier, or simply guessed, but these four Star Destroyers had simply pulled away from the general formation and ended up on the enemy's left flank during the breakout.
Executing the "Ackbar Slash," the Corellian was holding the majority of Dorja's subordinate formations to port, and to starboard — just four Star Destroyers, on which he tried to get his revenge just as he had on the quartet of similar ships on the left flank.
But that was not to be.
With the support of the Scimitar, Dorja not only cut through the enemy's light ships, allowing him to unleash dozens of corvettes on the Republicans without much fear of them being destroyed in battles with their own kind, but the Republican starships also couldn't really fire effectively at the Krueger, the Black Star, the Void Wanderer, and the Abyssal Fury.
Because those ships were positioned in the shadow of the quartet of immobilized orbital stations, and any miss at them — that bane of rapid-fire turbolasers — resulted in hitting the stations. Which, obviously, had a much larger profile than the squat Star Destroyers.
Whether Antilles turned out to be such a humanist, or whether he rightly feared that spy droids were recording the battle and such fire would be used as evidence in Thrawn's HoloNet broadcast, instead of a hurricane bombardment of these ships and their escort, the Republicans limited themselves to sharp, aimed shots.
Which didn't stop Raeder, Lennox, Abyss, and Stormaer from acting with all available calibers. And if Gilad understood correctly, the four destroyers were even managing to land troops on the stations in parallel.
Virtuoso!
If this isn't a private initiative by those four captains, then Dorja will clearly get a promotion based on the results of this battle!
But returning to the left flank, commanded by Thrawn, it can't be said that everything is equally rosy there.
The Impartial, the Omnipresent, the Ominous, and the Storm Front had already carried out the Grand Admiral's order, and these "single-digit" ships had effectively ended up in the rear of Antilles's retreating formation.
The Chimaera, the Forward Unto Dawn, the Pillar of Autumn, the Payback, the Resolute, the Captain Rensen, the Stalker, the Moonshadow, the Memory of Liinade (which had pretended to be the Liquidator before the battle in the Barpine system), and six Victory-class ships, accompanied by twenty-six heavy cruisers and eight second-line destroyers — Venators and Interdictors — now had to bend into a "snake" formation, a mirror-image letter "S."
"Sentinel and Binder have completed their turn," the watch officer reported.
"Excellent," the Grand Admiral said calmly. "Captain, pass the order — launch shuttles under TIE fighter escort to search for downed pilots in the central sector of the battle."
Pellaeon, who had been watching intently as the Chimaera pounded the shields of an MC80b that had blackened from hits but still refused to explode, shifted his attention to the overall battle picture.
For a few seconds, he simply studied the display, assessing the situation...
The Impartial, the Omnipresent, the Ominous, and the Storm Front were now in the enemy's rear. Having completed their turn, they were firing on the enemy's rearmost ships. The heavy cruisers, which had repeated the turning maneuver, supported them.
The remaining Star Destroyers, the "double-digit" ships, were just finishing their maneuver, while the Victory-class ships and the Dragons had already vanished.
"Turning maneuver complete!" Pellaeon reported.
The Chimaera, like the rest of the "double-digit" ships, was once again pointing its wedge-shaped bow at the enemy.
The left flank raked the left boards of Antilles's flotilla with turbolaser and ion fire. But during the time the turbolaser fire had ceased during the turn, the enemy had managed to raise their shield levels, and now the deflectors of the star cruisers were so amusingly...
"Excellent," Thrawn repeated like a mantra. "Captain Pellaeon, how long do you think it will take General Antilles's ships on the left flank to leave the area of the gravitational anomaly created by the Prison's generators?"
"About five minutes, sir," Pellaeon estimated by eye, based on the ships' positions, their speed, and their proximity to the cone-shaped boundary of that zone.
"Ten minutes and forty seconds, to be precise," Thrawn corrected. "What is the full turn time for an Imperial-class Star Destroyer?"
What was this, a test of technical knowledge?
At a time like this?!
"Three minutes and ten seconds, sir," Pellaeon said, able to keep his emotions under control, emotions that sometimes broke through in dangerous moments like this.
"For the Victory-class and Venators, slightly longer," the Grand Admiral said thoughtfully. "Though that's no longer important."
Of course it wasn't important! You sent those ships out of the system!
Antilles is going to break through now!
Thrawn had accustomed them too well to victories with minimal losses, small forces, and the spectacular rout of the enemy.
Hence this anger — they had been led by the nose!
All plans were ruined!
It wasn't easy to just look at the smoking, hole-ridden Impartial, Omnipresent, Ominous, and Storm Front, and at the blackened hulls of corvettes and riddled cruisers... The Dominion was winning with a "clean" score! Why had Thrawn, knowing the enemy had more protected ships, deliberately brought fewer Star Destroyers here?! Why hadn't he used the reserves they had? Why had he only taken the Stalker and the Grom from the Ubiqtorate fleet, when the rest were also in order, with adequate crews now loyal to the Dominion! Well, except maybe the Red Dragon — that was a bit more complicated... Why had he left those destroyers in the home system! Even with half-crews, they could have been useful now. They could have held the line with the heavy cruisers, provided artillery support, bombers...
If only the artificial gravity field didn't end so soon, there would still be a chance!
But Antilles right now...
Struck by a sudden realization, with a faint ringing like a bell, the puzzle pieces clicked into a single picture.
"Sir," Gilad cleared his throat, addressing the Chiss, catching the worried look from the silently watching Jedi Skywalker. "Should I order Sentinel and Binder to activate the gravity well generators?"
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't ask, Captain," a faint smile appeared on Thrawn's lips for a moment. "Yes, give that order. Vectors three through eleven. The distance will be just right for preparation by the time of fire contact. And inform the Crusader of the deployment vectors. Captain I-Gor must be getting impatient for a chance to properly heat up the launchers and the turbolaser barrels of his destroyer and the ships under his command."
Judging by how the young Skywalker's face fell, he too understood the meaning of what had been said.
The Alliance didn't make him a general just for his pretty face.
He had to understand something about military affairs.
If the horror in his eyes was any indication, the young man realized that the end had come for the youngest general of the New Republic.
* * *
It was no surprise that Lieutenant Kreb found his target near the flagship Star Destroyer.
A dozen X-wings bearing the distinctive markings of Rogue Squadron stayed close to the Victory II, clearly forming an escort.
No sign of transponder activity.
"Target acquired," Lieutenant Kreb reported, relaxing for a moment and accelerating his craft.
Eleven clicks on the comlink signaled confirmation.
A dozen TIE Avengers launched their attack, breaking through the exchange of fire between enemy and friendly interceptors.
The enemy reacted almost instantly, but it was too late.
Two pairs of TIE Avengers rained laser cannon fire on two victims, opening the hunting season on the "rogues."
The well-known craft of the Rogue Squadron commander returned fire, but didn't hit Kreb, who was concentrating mainly on evasive maneuvers. Moving in zigzags, swaying from side to side, he began an axial rotation to confuse the enemy's targeting systems, never ceasing his own fire.
The first minute of the battle ended with three enemies destroyed and two of his own damaged.
Not critical — both machines remained in formation.
He saw his launched missiles tear apart another X-wing flying towards him. The Alderaanian avoided the expected burst of cannon fire, missed with his return fire, but the next scarlet tracers stitched across the deflector field, instantly cutting its readings to two-thirds of standard.
Not critical.
His wingman drove off Horn's X-wing with fire, but Horn clearly had no intention of giving up.
Kreb saw him turn and charge into a new attack. Following him, in a stretched-out formation, came three more "rogues."
In terms of piloting skill, they were clearly inferior to Celchu and Horn — their movements were a bit jerky, but not without a certain filigree.
So, not rookies.
But not on the level of the group Kreb and Tia had destroyed at Mustafar.
Ahead, several thousand meters away, new markers appeared, gradually taking the shape of the remaining Rogue Squadron machines. Slightly below, joining the fighters that had just been attacked by Gray Squadron, were those that had been holding position in the lower hemisphere of the Admiral Ackbar.
Interceptors. A-wings.
This would be tough.
"Black Two, cover me," Kreb ordered, diving.
The situation wasn't ideal.
A-wings might not be the strongest small craft, but they were fast, agile, and dangerous.
Eight "rogues" remained, with a dozen A-wings approaching.
Against twelve TIE Avengers.
Under these conditions, even deflectors wouldn't save them.
But there weren't many options.
The enemy was using a "divide and conquer" tactic, offering either to fight one squadron while exposing their stern to another, or to split their pairs and get picked off one by one.
Either way, the "rogues" had achieved a simple numerical superiority.
"Psh-psh-psh, Lieutenant Kreb, how are things on your end?" a very familiar Corellian voice crackled.
"Good day to you too, Captain Horn," Kreb replied, pulling his craft away from an A-wing's salvo.
One of his concussion missiles caught the enemy and turned him into a fireball.
At the same moment, as two more A-wings were destroyed, Black Wing suffered its first irrecoverable losses — Celchu and Horn finished off Eleven and Twelve.
"It seems your major is busy, so we decided to invite Pash Cracken, son of General Cracken — who died because of you — to a little fire," the Corellian continued broadcasting.
What did that have to do with anything?
"I thought this was a rivalry between our squadrons," Kreb noted reasonably.
His heart began to beat a little faster — he was talking too much, his saturation was disrupted by the life support system.
"This is a war between the Republic and the Empire," Horn cut him off. "You'll pay in full for everyone you've killed. Oh, Kreb, look, another one of your ships just ceased to exist."
The lieutenant noted the extinguished indicator for Black Two on his panel.
Another wingman lost, permanently.
Kreb waited until the oncoming A-wings in their new pass came close enough to target, then fired a missile at them and veered left. During this maneuver, he rotated slightly on his axis, exposing his belly to the oncoming fighters and the upper part of his fighter to those pursuing from behind.
The enemy didn't miss the chance and fired a proton torpedo.
The homing head reacted as it should — but it didn't help the A-wing when Kreb shot "straight up" like a candle.
"Corran!" Tycho Celchu's voice burst through the speakers. "Friendly fire!"
Horn was silent, and Kreb didn't even bother to guess what he was up to.
His X-wing was still glued to the tail of the Black Wing commander, and the rare hits continued to eat away at his deflectors.
He had fewer and fewer missiles left, and fewer options.
The battle had already moved beyond the reliable range of the Admiral Ackbar's guns, and there was no hope that Horn would break off.
He had made this personal.
Fine, so be it.
For him.
Kreb sharply pulled the control stick towards himself, turning the "candle" into a dive.
A burst of cannon fire from Rogue Nine streaked past, not even scratching him.
The computer hadn't been fast enough to react in the fleeting moment of their head-on pass, and the spectacular launch of a concussion missile into Horn's canopy didn't happen.
He hadn't managed an analogous maneuver either.
The balance of power had shifted.
Only six "rogues" and five A-wings remained.
And seven "Blacks."
Ten enemy machines were acting against six of Kreb's clones.
Just then he saw streaks of smoke — the trails from missiles fired by the enemies ahead.
Only six Krebs remained in the surrounding space. This figure now included the "original."
But the squadron commander hadn't been idle either.
His body was feeling the G-forces, but he still managed to break away in the turns and get on the tail of a nimble A-wing.
A homing missile corrected the absurdity of that ship's existence.
Nine enemies.
Another indicator blinked — another "Black" was gone.
Judging by Celchu's machine flashing past, that was his doing.
Only one missile remained in the launcher, and he sent it at the nearest X-wing.
Another "rogue" died — the projectile tore through the cockpit, smashing into the canopy, and the machine broke apart, scattering into fragments.
Looping, driving a persistent New Republic interceptor off his own pilot's tail, Kreb charged after Celchu, forcing him to stop pursuing another "Black."
The lieutenant fired three bursts, shaving down the enemy's deflectors, but Celchu knew his machine masterfully.
He had bet on his deflectors holding against cannon fire — and it cost the life of Kreb's clone, whom Rogue Leader was pursuing.
Kreb's scanners flickered with markers for three surviving members of Black Wing squadron and six enemies.
A moment later, Kreb received telemetry indicating that the enemy capital ships — the star cruisers — were under fire.
The Chimaera's OCC ordered him to leave his current altitude due to the activation of the Dragons.
"Falling back," Kreb ordered the remaining pilots. "Lure the enemy towards you."
No need to repeat it twice.
If the Republic pilots took the bait, he could pull them further away from the capital ships' sector of fire and continue the fight.
They took the bait.
One of the A-wings, using its acceleration, surged ahead, intending to destroy Black Three.
The lead of the second pair maneuvered, breaking away, and Kreb focused on emptying all his guns into the pursuer.
At that same moment, a proton torpedo fired by Corran Horn blew Black Four apart, the ship that had drawn the remaining "rogues" onto itself.
The cockpit of the fighter pursuing Black Three caught fire, and the interceptor, spewing thick gray smoke, began to slowly spiral.
Thanks to the lieutenant's fire, the enemy exploded spectacularly, turning into a white-and-red ball. The spectacle could have been called truly magnificent, if one forgot that its price was a human life.
Now only two of them remained.
Against five.
Two "rogues" and three A-wings.
"Close formation," Kreb ordered his wingman.
A quick glance at the scanners assessed the situation.
There was no help to be had — the allies were far away, and there was no chance of holding out until they arrived.
There was only one option — fight.
Kreb and his wingman tumbled over their right wings, simultaneously turning to face the three A-wings.
Two of the enemy ships vanished in the flames of the first volley.
Kreb only managed to blacken the squadron commander's craft — apparently that Pash Cracken himself — with cannon fire.
Unfortunately, neither he nor his new wingman had the opportunity to attack with missiles because they had none left.
One-on-one against "rogues," the Krebs would have won. And the enemy was right to cover themselves.
The warning system activated, and the lieutenant veered his craft aside, but the proton torpedo continued to follow him.
Unrelentingly and threateningly closing in.
"That was the last one, Lieutenant," his wingman reported.
Kreb trusted his own clone — he, too, had been counting the missiles remaining to the enemy.
It was a tedious task, but the lieutenant never complained about his memory.
"Break," he ordered, perfectly aware that his wingman shouldn't be caught in the explosion.
Besides, the second TIE Avenger was constraining his maneuvers.
Because Kreb intended to do the stupidest thing he could think of to get rid of the proton torpedo.
He lined up on the projected course of four Star Destroyers that were herding the enemy fleet from the rear.
Diving into the maelstrom of turbolaser and ion fire gave him extremely low odds of survival.
And with a proton torpedo and Horn and Celchu on his tail? Even lower.
The lieutenant had already resigned himself to the fact that in two out of three outcomes, death awaited him — either the plasma of the guns would catch him, or the torpedo would destroy him.
His chances of survival were slim.
He darted sideways like a scalded gizka, dodging both friendly and enemy fire.
Judging by the fact that he was still alive, he was doing everything right.
But the proton torpedo was almost here, almost right on top of him...
Kreb pulled his craft right, letting a green flash of a turbolaser bolt pass over it.
Mentally counting the intervals between shots, he confirmed their consistency, timed it, and shot upward a second after another flash streaked over him.
The explosion threw him forward, against the control panel.
It took a moment to realize he still existed, and that the TIE Avenger was responding to its control systems.
So it wasn't over yet.
But the rear deflector wasn't just drained; its projectors were burnt out.
The stern was defenseless, and it was a miracle that Horn and Celchu hadn't caught him.
In fact, by the absence of scarlet beams nearby, he understood that something was definitely wrong.
Dodging another green flash of a turbolaser bolt, Kreb exited the destroyer's sector of fire and instantly oriented himself.
The A-wing was gone.
And the "rogues" were gleefully chasing Black Three.
Well, this game could be played by two.
"Black Leader, this is Scimitar Leader," Major Bren's voice sounded in his helmet. "Do you need assistance?"
The decision was made instantly.
"No, sir," Kreb replied.
"Continue your assigned task," Bren said through the crackle of interference.
Out of the corner of his eye, the lieutenant saw fire blossoms blooming where New Republic ships had been.
Caught in a new gravitational anomaly field deployed by Sentinel and Binder, Wedge Antilles's ships on the left flank came under fire from four Dragons.
But unlike the previous deployment, the Venators weren't disabling the New Republic starships.
They were only stripping their deflectors, while the enemy fighters, distracted by TIE interceptors, could do nothing against the raids of TIE bombers, screened by Corellian corvettes, and the anti-ship missiles spewed by six Victory-class ships that had arrived from outside the system.
Not to mention the dagger-like fire from the Star Destroyers and heavy cruisers on the left flank.
Stopped by the gravitational anomaly of two Interdictors, the Victory-class ships and Dragons fired from a range of fifty-five units.
From thirty-five units, the Star Destroyers opened fire.
And at that moment, the enemy could experience the full killing power of the "double-digit" ships, protected by deflectors that the enemy would never have a chance to strip before their own demise.
Forced to fire at both the Victory-class ships and Venators and the destroyers, the Republic ships, losing a star cruiser every minute of the battle, could not overcome the new kill box they had flown into.
The power of the anti-ship missiles that the Victory-class ships spewed from their launch tubes every thirty seconds, rotating in place and firing continuously from all four sides of the destroyers' plane, was overwhelming.
One hundred and twenty missiles every half-minute streaked into the enemy fleet, causing pain and destruction.
The forward New Republic ships lost their shields and knew the missile fury, turning into shapeless hulks, torn apart so badly that it was only by a miracle that they could be identified as Mon Calamari starships.
The escort ships, caught in the hurricane fire of the "double-digit" destroyer turbolasers, drifted with perforated hulls, turning the battlefield into a ship graveyard.
The quartet of Star Destroyers that had cut off the enemy's retreat to Saparin's orbit was already supported by two dozen heavy cruisers and represented an insurmountable barrier to escape.
The New Republic ships — a dozen star cruisers and a single Victory II — attempted to break out of the trap by turning right.
It was in this direction that no Dominion ships were present.
But that maneuver, too, was a trap.
The Dragons spewed ion fire, disabling ships one after another.
This time, they immobilized them, which meant only one thing — these ten MC80bs would be captured.
Like the flagship Victory.
Unlike the starships on the right flank, which were completely destroyed, on the left flank Grand Admiral Thrawn intended to take prizes.
And, when the targeting reticle locked onto the silhouette of an X-wing, Lieutenant Kreb knew that nothing else mattered anymore.
The four laser cannons of the TIE Avenger achieved a rate of fire that literally turned the bursts into two pairs of continuous laser beams.
Kreb deactivated his deflectors and channeled all his weapon power into the lasers.
The deflector of the Rogue Squadron commander's fighter held for a second.
Then the green beams shredded the lower left engine, causing the X-wing to yaw to the right.
With the icy calm of a professional, Kreb kept his finger on the trigger, watching as the cannons opened up the two right engines, scattered the right wings, and the uncontrolled craft jerked out of his sights.
He felt nothing when he saw the death of Black Three.
The lieutenant continued to destroy the legendary Alderaanian's machine.
Tycho Celchu.
Commander of Rogue Squadron.
Hero of the New Republic.
Hero of the Rebel Alliance.
Ace pilot with hundreds of kills to his name.
Once an Imperial pilot, a student of Baron Fel himself.
The traitor's machine exploded in the familiar orange ball of flame and debris.
For a moment, Kreb thought he saw a green beam vaporize the body in the orange flight suit, but he knew that couldn't be.
Just a figment of his imagination.
The next second, his TIE Avenger lost its right cannons and one of its right wings.
The machine went into a spin, and only by maneuvering his engines was the lieutenant able to stabilize in space.
During the spin, he cut power to the destroyed cannons, thanking the technician Alex for installing a buffer on his machine — similar to the energy transfer capability between engines, weapons, and shields found on X-wings.
"You're going to pay for this, Kreb," Horn said over the comms, his rage poorly concealed.
The control stick vibrated violently, indicating stabilizer failure and engine desynchronization.
This was bad.
The X-wing was coming around for a new attack.
And the lieutenant realized they were so far from the main battlefield that if Horn wanted to, he could easily make it to the edge of the artificial gravity zone and escape.
The scanners were already showing markers from Janeir's squadron — they had lost two, which wasn't bad.
But if Kreb knew anything about Jainer's combat mission, it was that he wasn't supposed to engage a large number of enemies.
They would be here shortly.
And for some reason, they weren't firing.
Despite the damage, Kreb had no intention of surrendering, moving in a yawing course and periodically chewing into Horn's deflectors.
Horn must have seen the approach of Gray Wing too and was doing some simple calculations.
Two of his engines were damaged — the result of flying close to where Celchu had died.
If that was the case, he would never make it to the jump point to hyperspace if he continued the hunt.
Even if he were a ten-time "rogue" and a Jedi, he couldn't handle ten TIE Avengers.
"An unusual dilemma, Jedi Horn, wouldn't you say?" Grand Admiral Thrawn's voice appeared on the common channel. "Finish off a wounded victim, or save yourself. I am genuinely curious which you will choose. Especially given that I have offers for you that you cannot refuse."
A switch clicked, and Kreb stopped hearing anything — the Chimaera had encrypted the channel.
* * *
Captain Pellaeon momentarily tore his attention away from studying the reports from his Star Destroyer's decks to listen to what the Grand Admiral was discussing with some "rogue."
"Go to a Hutt, Thrawn," Horn, according to long-range scanner data, had attempted to go on the attack, but at the cost of his right deflector and a short burst from Kreb managed to drive him back. "Your little lieutenant is going to die soon."
Skywalker's face darkened.
"Amusing," the commander replied. "But Lieutenant Kreb is a military pilot. I believe he, like his colleagues, understands how fickle military fortune is. However, I consider it my duty to remind you that if you stay around his fighter for another two minutes, the TIE Avengers of Gray Wing squadron will finish you off."
"At least I'll avenge my comrades!" Horn snarled.
"Commendable," Thrun assessed. "Foolish and unworthy of a military pilot, but commendable. Your impulsiveness suits me. I wonder how much you want vengeance right now: enough to think logically, or not?"
"Stalling for time so your pilots can arrive?" Horn asked sarcastically. "I'm a Jedi. They won't be a match for me either."
"Perhaps, but I strongly doubt it," Thrawn stated. "But I can assure you of one thing: if you do not steer your X-Wing away from Lieutenant Kreb's fighter right now, I will order the execution of Jedi Skywalker, who is standing a couple of meters from me, watching your fleet and its crews turn into memories with a sense of pain."
A few seconds of silence.
"Skywalker's fate doesn't concern me," Horn declared, but the confidence was already gone from his voice.
"Oh, I don't doubt that," Thrawn stated. "But you see, Captain Horn, I have slightly more leverage over you than just one Jedi. For example, the last of your friends — General Antilles. Yes, he has already been captured. You can watch as the Chimaera lands troops aboard the Admiral Ackbar. You know, the stormtroopers of the 501st Legion are operating there, and they have no orders to take prisoners..."
"But you will give that order if I spare Kreb, won't you?" Horn howled like a rancor.
He had almost set a combat course, but abruptly changed direction without opening fire.
"An interesting deal, wouldn't you say? One life in exchange for many."
"We... don't negotiate with terrorists," Horn said haltingly.
"Your right, but what do I have to do with terrorism?" Thrawn asked in surprise.
"Because—"
"That was a rhetorical question, Jedi Horn," the Grand Admiral said in a stern tone. "I am offering you a deal. A final one. You leave the system, and I spare the lives of Luke Skywalker and Wedge Antilles. As well as all Republicans who are taken prisoner."
"Thrawn, I have no reason to trust you—"
"Shut your mouth," the Grand Admiral ordered in a tone that made even Gilad want to obey. And Skywalker sat bolt upright in his chair as if a pipe had been shoved down his spine instead of his backbone. Life on the bridge grew quieter, practically coming to a halt. "You strayed from the path long ago and stopped being the person you wanted to appear to be. I hope you haven't forgotten that you deserted from the New Republic Defense Forces to save your father-in-law and wife?"
"I'll save them as soon as we finish you off—"
"Or I could contact the place where they are being held and order them thrown into space," Thrawn offered an alternative. "Judging by the fact that you're busy with everything except searching for them, you've long since stopped caring about their fate. What's curious is that they continue to care about yours. Though, Mr. Terrik increasingly wants to break everything that can be broken on you. I won't say I blame him for such intentions."
Horn's X-Wing wobbled and sharply turned away toward the edge of the artificial gravity zone.
"What do you want from me?" Horn's voice sounded hollow, and Gilad realized the man was broken.
"You are a descendant of a Jedi line, Corran," Thrawn said. "As far as I know, your grandfather, Rostek Horn, is not your biological grandfather — he was a friend of your biological grandfather, Nejaa Halcyon, a Corellian Jedi..."
Skywalker unfroze, looking around as if trying to ask someone if what he had heard was true. No, he himself knew it was so — according to Thrawn's words. But those who knew this little secret preferred to keep quiet.
Honestly, even Pellaeon didn't know where Thrawn was so well-informed.
"Rooting through my past?" Horn asked angrily.
"And who would forbid me from doing so?" Now try to figure out whether that question was rhetorical. "But let's return to the matter at hand. I am releasing you for one purpose — you will go to your grandfather. Rostek Horn has data related to Jedi teachings. You will procure that data for me, after which you will get your wife and father-in-law back."
"And if I refuse?" Corran asked.
"Then you'll have to find yourself other relatives," Thrawn replied laconically.
"And you kept saying you don't fight civilians," Corran sneered. "You're holding them hostage! Ordinary people!"
"Spare me your semantics, Horn," Thrawn advised. "Your wife and her father helped you and the Alliance in the fight against the Empire, either for payment or out of personal conviction. Either way, according to Imperial law, by which the Dominion lives and which I adhere to, this classifies them as mercenaries. Bounty hunters, if that's easier for you to understand. They are neither prisoners of war nor civilians. Their death would not even touch me."
"Just you dare, Thrawn," Horn declared. "And you'll regret it!"
"Just as I regretted capturing them almost half a year ago?" the Grand Admiral clarified. "Let me remind you that you are supposedly a loving husband..."
"Fine," the Jedi said. "I'll think about your—"
"One more thing," Thrawn said, receiving a datapad with a report from the watch officer's hands.
Gilad wondered how many extra duty shifts he could assign to this enterprising lieutenant.
And whether he could at all — perhaps this was critically important information that could not be delayed.
"Decided to change the terms of the deal?" Horn laughed bitterly.
"You're right," Thrawn stated. "I received a message from my people aboard the Lusankya. Agent Iella Wessiri is your close friend, isn't she?"
"You captured the Lusankya too?" Horn was taken aback.
"Yes, it's been a rough week for the New Republic Defense Forces," Thrawn answered simply. On the bridge, the watch nearly choked on laughter. Only Pellaeon's angry glare stopped the subordinates' nervous hysteria. Thrawn didn't even bat an eye. "I have a different proposal for you. I will give you your friend, along with your wife, father-in-law, and all the other agreed-upon prisoners — Antilles and Skywalker — if you deliver that data to me."
"If it even exists, no one ever told me about it," Horn warned. "I think Grandfather would have mentioned it..."
"Just take an interest in his greenhouse," Thrawn advised. "That's all, Captain. You've already received the frequency for meeting with me."
A few seconds after the Grand Admiral disconnected, the last active X-Wing's mark disappeared from the scanner screens.
Instead, marks appeared for several Acclamators carrying equipment needed for ship repairs and converting the Golan stations into ones capable of traveling through hyperspace.
"Escort Jedi Skywalker to his cell," Thrawn ordered, continuing to survey the battlefield where he had destroyed yet another New Republic fleet.
Pellaeon had many questions for the commander, and he swore he would ask them at the next briefing.
For now, he simply did what he had to do.